this is home
by tekina fiction
Summary: This time, when he falls, he lives. And this time, he remembers everything.


**5.9.19**

**this is a gift for viivi (arctic-starflowers) for her bday! and its late! it was meant to be on 5/2, her actual bday! fuck! im so sorry man  
**

**i also realize i haven't posted on this ffnet profile in three years. well WHOOPS HERE'S A ONE SHOT TO MAKE UP FOR THAT AHHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAH h. but since i haven't been here for a while im gonna say "fujoshis don't interact" as i make my return**

**but yeah! i cooked this bad boy up and i hope yall enjoy. this is barely beta'd h**

**cw for swearing and depression**

* * *

It starts like this.

He didn't die when he fell from the ARK. Instead, he wakes up, gets dragged into a fiasco, and only goes because he wants it over with. He just wants to rest. So, he helps kill the so-called Metal Overlord, and it's done. He's back on Earth to stay.

By the time Shadow and his newfound teammates (supposedly) arrive at Rouge's apartment, the hedgehog sags on Omega's frame, clinging, while the bat groggily opens the door. The shelter is not ideal. Through the moonlight, Shadow sees stray laundry piling near the floor, dust clumping up a corner, and piled plates on an end table. It's clearly been a while. But it's better than nothing.

There's also a clock that has actual hands, so he glances at it.

It reads 2:06 A.M.

Chaos.

"... I can settle you guys in properly, tomorrow," Rouge murmurs, wrapping an arm around Shadow's back, "For now, just take the guest room on your left. Omega, you can have the outlet in the laundry room. It can handle your power intake."

"Thank you," The robot quietly hums. Shadow releases his hold, then watches as the former walks away.

Rouge lets the teen lean on her as they head to the bedroom, "C'mon, let's go."

And really, he has so many thoughts swirling. He wants to ask, why, why are you with G.U.N? You were assigned to find me, so why haven't you turned me in, yet? He wants to say that Rouge deserves a better job than being their little puppet, out there just to fetch the toys they want. But the organization did give him a plane ride home that would have been days on the car. And it's late.

So, the boy just says, "Okay," And heads to the room.

And Shadow tries to sleep when she walks out, he really does. He pries off his skates, he crawls into the blankets, and he waits. He fumbles with the sheets, he shifts, he twists. Turns. But he can't.

Eventually, he finds that there's one of those flat televisions that are made these days in his room, for whatever reasons. So, he fumbles to find the remote. He does, and he turns it on.

_"—Thank you, Amanda. This just in, residents at Circus Park-which is near the borders of Empire City-reported signs of another fight between South Island vigilante Sonic the Hedgehog and wanted criminal 'Dr. Eggman', just off the coast—"_

Click.

_"—Update on the situation in Viemigos, Souamerica, one month after a piece of the Moon crashed into the town. The meteor struck on June 19, 5772 P.F, when international terrorist Ivo Robotnik—alias Dr. Eggman—launched the attack. Robotnik bombed half of the Moon with a particle weapon from the former research colony ARK. While the injured are making a steady recovery, over 432 people have been reported dead, and 23 missing. City officials still are pouring money into repairing schools, houses, and basic shelter. However, they are now seeking international aid to make up for the lack of funding on food and water. The families interviewed say—"_

He shuts the television off and he-he needs to shut it all out. Needs to make it stop. Just make it all go quiet.

But it repeats and repeats, all he can hear is _these _are who he's killed, _these _are the ones he's separated from their families, _these _are the people that are starving—because—because of him. And worse, he can't grasp the number, it seems so surreal. That it's just out there, not tangible, not real, not possible—

_-Because you're a murderer, because you're a freak, because you can't do anything right. They died because of you. This happened because of you. This is your fault. You fucking failure-_

Shadow buries himself in the sheets, shaking under the covers, clutching the creases. He recalls. When Rouge took him out of that facility, into that field outside, and when Sonic saw him for the first time since he fell. And—he couldn't even look at the hybrid. No. He ran away.

_Because he knows what you've done. They know. Everyone. And you let Eggman take the blame instead of owning up to it. _

He curls up and tries to sob. Scream. Something. Anything. Stop repeating. Stop rewinding. Stop going back. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

What's wrong with him.

* * *

He doesn't know why he keeps on waking up to see the next day. The days just pass in a livid cycle that's just meant to keep this heavy shell of a body alive. Wake up. Help out in the apartment. Find something to do, go outside, read, or screens. Repeat.

He applies to GUN a week before, but they don't respond. So he waits. Wastes his time. Tries to give himself some purpose, some meaning. Or if he can't, just entertain himself.

That aside, Rouge is now letting him live under her roof because she "wants to". Probably lying. Or whatever stupid reason to keep him around. He doesn't get her. What's the point of helping him and expecting nothing in return? She doesn't make any sense. She's not going with how the world works.

But today, he has to get up. Rouge is put out of commission from her latest assignment, thanks to a broken leg. And some stray thug. So, it's up to him to pay the bills this week. And he does so in the most efficient way possible: Shamar's Extreme Gear World Grand Prix.

He hears the drama from the news. Sonic and His Merry Gang of Friends attended those new Extreme Gear races, only to find Eggman hauling what was a mythical ruin (Not anymore, ha.) from the ground. And something about a bunch of rogues. The details are fuzzy, that's not the focus right now. He has a cash prize to snag.

The hybrid leans against the wall circling the racetrack, squinting against the smoldering heat to see folks milling into the stands. The Gear he obtains can get the job done—Shinobi skates—which are already a medium he's familiar with, so. But, really, people come here, in this weather? Just to throw their money at some folks flipping tricks and running circles on a track? What's the point—

"Shadow?"

The ebony teen has no choice but to turn around, pry his eyes from the ground, and make eye contact.

Sure enough, it's the blue boy himself, slinging a Speed type board under his arm. He certainly dresses for the occasion. Sonic dons a skintight tracksuit, with one pant leg cut off to make an asymmetrical short that ends at his thigh. He tops it all off a slick visor that is clearly designed for human's pair of eyes, and the glaring sunlight bounces from the lens. Knowing Sonic, he probably does all this for style points.

Shadow hasn't seen him since the Metal Overlord incident.

And he could really use digging a hole and dying right now.

"...Hey." The agent starts, dumbly.

The hero scans Shadow up and down, then gives a small smile, "Hey, yourself."

Silence.

Sonic stabs it with a cough, "So... what are you doing here? Ames said that you were working for GUN now. Unless there's something up again after this whole Babylon Rogues fiasco—"

"No, there isn't," Shadow immediately cuts in, "I'm waiting for them to register me. And I'm just in the race for the money."

"Ah, okay," He puts a finger to his chin, pondering, "Didn't know you were the type to get into Extreme Gear gigs."

"There's a lot you don't know about me." Shadow puts it bluntly.

There's an awkward, tense pause and an "Um," and a "So," that hangs in the air, and they both look away.

_Just say it. _

"I wanted to apologize."

Sonic's face falls into an unreadable expression.

"Dude, for what? Saving my life? Stopping a homicidal machine from getting to the mainland and killing millions of people?" He gestures to the crowds that are still flowing into the stands; families, groups, couples. That it could have been them.

"No, no. Just—" Shadow stammers, raising his hands, "—for how I treated you. I framed you, remember? I nearly put you jail, with an arrest that would have made you waste over a decade of your life. And... I ... I tried to kill you. I _wanted_ to."

The ebony hedgehog sags against the wall, bags under his eyes, and fists clenching, "…I didn't even thank you."

He waits. Tenses up. Waits for Sonic to yell at him, to go, "Why the hell would I forgive you, after what you've done?" to beat him up, to scream at him in front of this crowd for all to see—

"Chaos, you're so hard on yourself."

Shadow freezes.

"What? But I-"

Sonic just sighs, and places a hand on the latter's shoulder, "Look, I'm... I'm not mad at you, a'ight? I got folks tryin' to kill me all the time. 's part of my job. Heck, Knux beat the crap outta me when I first ran into him."

The hero leans next to him, and Shadow just stares at the floor.

The former lowers his voice, in a way that the latter hasn't heard before, "My point is: What matters is that you wanna grow from it. If anythin', I should be the one saying it. I let you fall. I could have saved you."

Shadow opens his mouth to respond but doesn't.

"… It should have been me."

_So._

_That's why you ran._

"… How about a truce?" Sonic says, slowly, "We're still kicking. Let's not beat ourselves up about it, while we last."

He wants to say: You let things off too easy. Why aren't you screaming? Why are you so forgiving? I don't understand. I can't understand. I don't deserve this.

But instead, Shadow just whispers, "… Okay."

And it's over just like that.

He watches (Hopefully not with his jaw gawking, is he staring?) as Sonic eventually makes his way back to the starting line. But not before giving his rival a playful shove.

"That doesn't mean I'm letting you win." He grins, before darting off.

* * *

Rouge signs him up for this new 'therapy' thing and… that's a word? This is a profession that folks are paid for? To listen to others' issues?

He just... just thought that you could control what you felt, choke it all down, and get over it. That feelings were under your control. And yes, he knows that people don't end up the same after witnessing death, or nearly being killed, or some other game changer. But… he thought that just living would ease the 'Who would cry if I died?' churning in his head. If he just didn't say a word about how he felt, it would pass. Because who wants to hear him? Friends aren't supposed to put up with this, right?

Right.

But, yeah. She signs him up, drops him off to this office, and he could just pass out right here, and take a nap. He admits, the walls have this lovely pastel green, and the plants surrounding the entrance give a smile to his face.

Shadow sits cross-legged on the futon, fumbling his gloves, "So, how does this thing work?"

The human across the table—Macchia—shrugs, and says, "We just talk. About your problems, what's on your mind, and how you feel about them. Anything to ease your mind."

He lowers his hands and feels really small and stupid. That's what the simple, comfortable furniture is for, as well as the herbs outside, and the little fountain machine in the hall._ It's calming. Idiot. _"…Oh."

Macchia snickers, "What did you think we were going to do?"

"I don't know. Tests were the first thing on my mind. Like exams. Seeing if I could pass for being 'well' enough."

"Well… if you mean by grading, that doesn't really help, which is the opposite of my duty. But if you mean diagnosing, that's what psychiatrists are for," She scratches the back of her head, "But anyhow, let's get the legal stuff out of the way. Y'know, consent forms, confidentiality, and so on. Wait, how old are you?"

Shadow bit his lip, "Do you mean by how long I've existed, or by what state my body and mind are?"

Macchia just stares. Then coughs, "… Maybe you could try explaining your situation to me?"

"Okay, so," He takes a deep breath, "I am physically and mentally 15 years old. However, since I have been in suspended animation for 50 years, I am technically 65 years old... legally. Or chronologically. Or, whatever the word is to describe it."

"… Suspended animation?" She takes out a pen, a pad, and crosses her legs. She has this focused expression, but Shadow knows. It's disbelief. "… Why don't you give me some basics? From the beginning."

A forlorn smile makes its way to Shadow's face.

"I was created in 5722, by my grandfather. His name was Gerald Robotnik... "

* * *

When it's over, his eyes are red from crying into all those tissues, and his nose is all congested.

He's feeling. Something. Anything. A gouge in his heart after _just not caring_ and _how many days has it been_. And it hurts and he just wants it to end. But at the same time, it's like a choking, thick vat has been purged from his lungs. He isn't being overemotional. He isn't this way for no reason. He's not crazy.

He walks out the door and comes to a realization.

_I am not okay._

* * *

"Should I place it here?"

"Yeah, it's pretty barren there. 'Sides, this little guy could use some plants near his bed. Who wouldn't want some?"

"Alright. Here are the succulents."

Shadow burrows said plants into the earth, making sure that it skirts the edge of the cacti Chao's nest, and then tucks the aloe with the soil. Then, the two gauge the creature's reaction. It plucks a single leaf from the succulent, chirps, and then giddily retreats to its nest.

Sonic practically giggles in delight, while Shadow just smiles.

It's been a year into rebuilding South Island, after the whole war between Eggman and whatnot. All that's left is to rehabilitate the wildlife, and the two hedgehogs are putting the finishing touches in the local Chao Garden. Schools are sprouting up again, the local villages can rely on their own harvests now, and it's safe enough to travel outside the country. And yes, this won't fix the chemicals that still leech in the coral reefs. Yes, this won't fix the shanty towns that have sprung since Central City is still in tatters. Yes, it won't fix starving refugees that still wander.

But it's something, and that's what matters.

Shadow stops kneeling to lie on Sonic's lap, letting the sunlight toy with his hair. Their work is done, so they can just slack. He can just stay, without a word, because Sonic's company is all that he needs. He doesn't need an excuse to be with him. He knows him from the years they've spent together.

The agent chuckles as the hero tenderly cradles the Chao in his arms and plants a kiss to its forehead.

And suddenly, all Shadow can see is him.

He just... notices. He notices all little details that encompass this uncomplicated, yet enigmatic boy before him. He sees how Sonic's smile is so subtle and perfect and real. How handsome his laugh rings. How soft, how gentle the edges of his face is. And finally, the hedgehog wonders what it would be like, to have Sonic's lips on his own, instead of that Chao receiving the honor.

He wouldn't mind at all.

Shadow can't stop himself, and quietly murmurs, "You look really nice."

And it sounds so stupid once it leaves his mouth. But Sonic, despite everything, just smirks.

"Heh, I always deliver. But, really?" The hedgie twirls a spine around his finger with an awkward grin, "I didn't bother to comb out my stray spines this morning; I'm still _quillin'_ at eighteen."

Shadow realizes that his words would probably cross the line of 'Just Good Pals!' if he goes any further and immediately backpedals, "Y-yes, that's what I mean. Pure mobian genes are lucky like that. You don't have dried out spines that stay for so long, you can just shed them out."

"Wait, yours _does_ that?"

The topic shifts and the potential disaster goes away.

Beneath the jokes and jibes thrown to pass the time, it doesn't stop the teen from wondering why these thoughts start to roll and gain momentum. It has to stop. He needs to strangle that warmth creeping up his neck. Throw it away, before it sprouts into something that will spiral out of control.

But it's planted. And it keeps on growing. The cramped, evening bike-taxi ride on unpaved roads doesn't swerve his thoughts down the alley and into the garbage where they belong. By the time he gets to the hotel, he shares with his team, not even a routinely session of banter between Rouge and Omega helps.

He lies in bed and just wonders.

What kind of friend is Sonic to him?

Well, he's the kind that drags Shadow out of the house; to show this cool landmark he's found or those natural wonders from books he would devour. The kind of friend that told him that he mattered, that would listen to his memories. He was the sort of boy that would let him lean on his shoulder. And maybe, he could be the kind of friend that will let him kiss his lips, wrap his arms around his neck, and let him just be in his arms. And then, Shadow would open his mouth and-

He turns and wraps himself stupid in the blankets. And—it's so weird—Sonic is just a _friend._ And yes, he knows that friends can kiss, it doesn't have to be romantic. But friends don't hold each other in their arms, friends wouldn't love him as he would-

And that's when he realizes it.

…Oh.

Oh.

He's a goner.

* * *

GUN finally fucking hires him, he gets an invite to a fucking initiation party with the new recruits, because he FUCKING deserves it thank you very much. Fuck you, Abraham Tower. He dons his best wear—dress shirt, pencil skirt, and pins his inhibitors with flowers—just to spite his boss because he got this job to honor his sister, not to fucking please him. He gets this job to make up for the crimes he's done.

He's been idling by the food stand as an excuse to avoid the dancing, the screaming groups, and blaring music. The hedgehog shoves another lumpia roll down his throat, grateful that there is a banquet in the first place. It's a good method to avoid the extrovert nonsense that surrounds him.

But he's not here to receive the honor of being an agent, actually.

A pair of hands cover his eyes, but he doesn't flinch.

"Guess who?" A legato voice sings-songs.

This is why he came.

Shadow just takes his hands into his own and cradles them. He turns around, and grins, "Hi, Sonic. I see you got your invite."

"Hey," He giggles, then spins the agent into a hug, "You made it!"

Sonic, being himself, wears a simple sundress with red flowers dotting each and every spot. He doesn't bother with a "monochrome with a hint of color" dress code going on, because he simply doesn't give a damn.

_Chaos, he's so cute. _

Shadow clears his throat, "Can we go somewhere... quiet? I want to discuss something important."

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

His heartbeat strangles his throat as he guides the teenager through halls before they finally make it to a discreet janitorial closet. It's cramped, so their chests barely graze each other as Shadow shuts the door.

Heh. The agent fantasizes about this moment far too much beforehand.

"So, what's up?" Sonic starts, before lowering his voice, "Are you... are you doing okay?"

"Yeah, I actually am." He gives a wan smile, one, but it's so worth it, "If you're wondering, I'm coping better. I... I write down my thoughts when I can't sleep; when the memories just keep going. And as for therapy, I no longer need weekly sessions. I can just stop by when I'm really low. So, that part of me is good. But... but I'm not here for that."

Just say it.

His fingers are shaking.

_Why is it so hard to breathe._

"Can... can I kiss you?"

Sonic's smile dies, and he scrunches up. Confused. "... I'm sorry, what?"

And that's when he can't breathe, yet he starts stammering, "—I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry_, _I'm—I shouldn't have—just—_forget it—"_

And the first thing he knows to do is bolt for the door. Stupid, idiot, what were you thinking, of course, he would be disgusted-

"No, wait, wait, wait, wait! Shadow!"

Sonic grabs his hand, but he's not digging into his palm. It's gentle, yet frantic. "I didn't mean that I didn't want it. I've... I..."

_You're okay with it?_

He turns back to face him. This has to be some sort of dream. But it's not, somehow, as Shadow intertwines their fingers and… tries to figure it out. He doesn't know how this is supposed to work. But he leans in, and Sonic is leaning too, how could he…

He meets him halfway.

It only lasts a few seconds, but, good Gaia, he's so warm. _This can't be me. How can this happen? I don't deserve this. _He holds him closer, and he just… wants to _be._

When they break apart, it's quiet.

"I…"

"… I guess we're both idiots." Sonic laughs.

It sounds so beautiful, happy, and impossibly real.

And Shadow doesn't know how to respond, except with kissing him again.

* * *

**okay! fun fact time**

**1."quilling" is an irl process where teenage hedgehogs do and indeed shed their baby spines out. look it up!  
**

**2\. the time system used in this fic is by a good buddy of mine, taako bell! (or autistic-silver on tumblr). the p.f stands for "post flood" and i can probably build on that in a later fic. or make a post dedicated to all of their headcanons**

**3\. and i forgot to mention that the town 'viemigos" is from a sonic forces rewrite made by a buddy of mine, ways! it's called "sonic forces: trials of war" blease read it okay? okay**

**also, shadow's depression is projected from my experiences with it h. i wanted a post sa2 fic that focused on his recovery on the guilt of the crimes he's committed, since i dont see many fics focusing on it. (*cough* blowing up the moon, framing an innocent person *cough)**

**and a psychology fun fact! falling in love is a sign that you're willing to risk rejection and pain, which is an indicator of moving on from painful experiences. so that's why i went with the route i did h**

**but yeah! i hope u enjoyed! happy sweet 16 boo :^) hope u enjoy being older than me, and relishing in the fact that i'm now the group baby again asdlkfjsdalk**

**please leave a review its been a while bye aaaaaa**


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